


Ulysses

by CissyM



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drama, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Gen, Mycroft To The Rescue, Original Character(s), Overdosing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 01:35:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3877399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CissyM/pseuds/CissyM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How could people ask why when a simple shot managed to create the perfect path for me to solve the impossible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ulysses

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for possible triggers involving syringes, hard drugs, *Not really a spoiler but spoiler* Overdose and *This is now a spoiler* very minor Suicidal thoughts.
> 
> I claim no ownership of any of the characters here used with the exception of Jonathan.
> 
> I named the fanfic Ulysses after the song that inspired me to write it. Ulysses, Franz Ferdinand.
> 
> It's been amazing to write this, I adore research to be so useful and let me tell you, I've never expected people to be so relaxed discussing this kind of stuff, but I'm glad they were, I've learned a lot and enjoyed myself like never before writing this.
> 
> It might not be a master piece but I sure love it.
> 
> And I also warn everyone that this is to be edited, I know it has some mistakes on it, but do please tell me in the comments if you find any all the same, English is not my first language and I'd be pleased to have people help me improve, I'm not that good at it.
> 
> Finally some action on my account, please enjoy yourself, I really hope you like it <3

Time passes, the clock slowly ticks and tacks your life away. You grow up to discover a world full of hatred, murder, blood and tears where there once used to be sunshine and laughter. You’re not the special beautiful snowflake your parents made you believe you were, you’re just another freak of the gigantic life circus.

And I am the master freak.

“Nice spot, innit?” Said Jonathan while slowly walking up to my side and sitting down. “At least we’re not fucking freezing outside.” Added then picking up my lighter. I didn’t answer, I usually didn’t talk much, but Jonathan respected that, he was the least annoying one of the usuals. “You took already?” I hummed in response, he laughed, I think.

I had been drifting on and off consciousness for about 10 minutes or so by the time he appeared, the apogee had passed, sadly. I tended to use the precious minutes of my peak to solve what I could not ever wish to brush with the tip of my fingers while sober. He used to mumble about some kind of degree, or his child, or whatever, I never quite listened to him anyway. He always caught me on the downhill. “I solved it, you know?” I worked out after about 30 seconds struggling with the words.

“Solved what?” I rolled my eyes while slowly adjusting the cushion I was sitting on. “The murder.” The temptation of adding a very telling ‘’Duh.’’ at the end of that sentence was strong, but the sarcastic meaning was there nonetheless. Jonathan laughed again, if that choking sound could be considered laughter. “Which one?” Lord almighty he’s thick.

...

Or not so much, that was a very good question in the state my mind was at the moment. Which murder indeed. Oh, but I knew, Sherlock Holmes would not forget a case, not ever, but finding the words to explain it was surprisingly hard. “You know...the…” A frustrated growl escaped my mouth. “The one with the...poodle, the dog.” And there was that choked sound again. “The poodle? What the hell, mate?” But I was having none of that, I could not possible elaborate more and I had talked about it many times while I was in the middle of organising my thoughts through the peak, he had to know. “Sorry, sorry. I’m messing with you.” Added smiling, sometimes I had to reconsider if he really was the least annoying one.

“Who did it, though?” ...You’re the one to blame Sherlock, you started showing off as usual, now deal with the consequences. “The...cousin. The second cousin of the…” A rebel yawn managed to escape while I was trying to find the words. “The victim’s second cousin.” I corrected myself at last, grammar was hard when recognising your face turned out to be a challenging task. “Tell me about it, mate, don’t leave it like that.” I half-smiled, it was always a pleasure to enlighten my fellow companions on the marvels of crime-solving. The very few occasions when I carried on talking non-stop were the ones where someone showed interest in my capacities as a detective.

“The victim died in a very simple way, stabbed about 4-5 times with a fatal blow to the chest, it cut the aorta so she died quickly, the paramedics could do nothing.” I shrugged while thinking about the details ahead of time so I wouldn’t get stuck mid-sentence. “While investigating I discovered she had recently adopted a poodle, a friend of a friend had found someone who couldn’t keep it so she contacted the person and met with her to take the dogs and his belongings back to her place. Turns out she was her second-cousin on her mother’s part.” A tiny ‘’Oh’’ encouraged me to continue. “Her mother had recently passed away but she had no relationship whatsoever with her family because of a big fight they had when she was younger, so neither of them knew nothing about the other.” He left the needle beside him without taking the shot to be able to listen to me. “Man, what are the odds, right?” It was indeed a rare case. “About 1 out of 2,5 million I’d dare say.” He laughed shaking his head. “Show off” My smile grew wider. “Is that a surprise?” I answered raising my eyebrow. “Not at all, arshole, go on.” So I did.

“The cousin in question, we’ll name her Tania for your understanding, had hit bottom not long ago, the bank was planning on taking away her house and she had barely enough to eat, that’s why she was giving away the dog. When she arrived at the victim’s place and went on helping her with everything needed for the dog, the deceased, who we will name Kenya, showed her around the house as courtesy, on that short trip, pictures of the mother were at display, so Tania connected the dots fairly quick.” She had been fairly intelligent, to be honest, I was mildly impressed. “Sorry, Tania was the cousin?” I nodded with a tad of impatience, calm down Sherlock, not everyone is as bright as you’d want. “With a bit of research of her own, she discovered the recently passed away mother of the victim, Kenya, had left a bit of money for her family as a final act of redemption, and that given the poor health of the family itself, apart from her daughter, she was the closest relative she had anyway.” He seemed really interested in my tale, even if it was a bit hard to follow with the family concept. “She just admited the first bit, but I am sure the plan was to kill her all along to get the whole sum of the will. What she told us is that when she was faced with the facts, and given her situation, Tania came back to Kenya’s house to demand the money and reveal his blood relation to her, but what she did not expect was how defensive the victim turned out to behave upon those facts, soon enough everything got out of hand, they fought, Tania lost control and stabbed her with a long ham knife.” We kept silence for about a minute before Jonathan could process. “How the bloody hell did you realise it was her?” I smiled again…

“It hit me during a peak last week. I had questioned her the day before due to my investigation, she seemed nervous when I found her, but apart from that, the resemblance was quite obvious, and she kept talking and babbling about the poor girl ‘’Having lost her mother and now being killed’’. So I decided to dig a bit more, and I found the family relation and the mother’s will.” He rested his head against the wall and buffed in astonishment. “I am impressed, really. Wow. You’re really a genious. Not that I doubted it, but damn, you’re hardly 20 yet.” I shrugged and yawned again before answering. “I know.”

“You’re knackered.” I rolled my eyes, thank you for that valuable information, Jonathan. “More than usual I mean, tosser.” True, but irrelevant, that’s why I was there anyway, apart from solving crimes from time to time if the police didn’t nag me much, I had nothing else exciting or challenging to do, so I needed something to give me back the spark, to relax for a little while, to run away from life, from boredom...

And from him most of all.

When we were younger it was different, yes, I was an annoying little brat...I kept following him around, pestering him, but because I admired him. He was so clever, so elegant, so everything I ever wanted to be. Always had time for me, we would play deductions, or any silly board game that was available, twisting the rules to make it more challenging was always fun, he would even take me to the park to pick up new samples for my primitive experiments. He knew how to make me laugh, Mycroft was a good brother back then...But people change.

We both did.

‘’How was your day, Sherlock?’’ Started turning into ‘’Maybe tomorrow.’’  
‘’Maybe tomorrow’’ Became ‘’Perhaps next week.’’  
‘’Perhaps next week’’ ended up being ‘’Mr.Holmes is busy at the moment, would you like me to send him a message?’’

No, Thank you. I will call again tomorrow.

I tried, I tried for so long. Just a fraction of what he used to be would have been enough.

Oh, but then the mocking, it appeared so subtly in ways I could have never had prevented. Almost invisible condescending smiles, a sarcastic chuckle here and there; suddenly I was not worth his time, he was too important to be around his inferior little brother.

But soon enough that annoying little brat became too much of a nuisance, he meant nothing but trouble, as anyone could expect, I am not known for being likeable...So he tried to control me, I could not be the black sheep that ruined his political career. Psychiatrists, detectives, bodyguards, cameras; Those who don’t know what kind of person he is might think he did it for my sake...But as I saw him climb the stairs of the parliament I realised I was nothing but a side expense covered by the couple of grands he kept in his back pocket.

What I did learn from him, the most important lesson he ever taught me, for which I will be forever grateful is...Caring is not an advantage.

A hand started shaking my right shoulder “Hey, Sherlock, drifting off, are we?” UGH “Hmphf” I complained as eloquent as ever. “Don’t blame me, mate, you’ve been ignoring me for the past hour or so.” Some people should understand that the fact of ignoring another person had a deeper meaning than ‘’Are you falling asleep?’’ No. I just don’t care. “Anyway, Martha is doing really good at school lately, her mum told me she got an A in Maths last week…”

Oh, lord. I need another shot.

I grabbed the lighter and spoon without much of a word, letting him keep the monologue going. “Wow, Sherlock, so soon? It’s barely been two hours.” Anything to spare me from your daughter’s school life. “It’s fine.” I mumbled while trying not to spill everything out. “You’re not that tolerant.” I hadn’t been using for as long as he had but managed with pretty high dosage all the same. “I said it’s fine.” I was getting quite pissed, I despised motherly attitude. “Okay, mate, Jesus, do whatever. Just don’t go ‘’I see double and can’t breathe, Jonathan’’, I’m not into that.” The needle sucked the whole liquid. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?” I raised my eyebrow peeking at him. “Hilarious.” As always, his cheeky smile was enough to make me want to slap him. Thankfully, it didn’t take me much to put him aside.

I felt it enter my system while I put away the syringe in a plastic bag.

Oh…

It was all so clear.

So obvious.

I felt alive and dead at the same time, my subconscious met the real world and found new meanings for the deep questions that troubled my always busy mind. The enigmas that usually had me obsessed for weeks at a time were making sense without any kind of effort, it was so easy, how could people ask why when a simple shot managed to create the perfect path for me to solve the impossible.

I was so excited I could hardly breathe...Uhm, and I heard a regular tapping. It repeated constantly for over a minute.

I had never experienced such a peak, that was a really good shot. It was so difficult to experience greater sensations with the second shot of the day, I didn’t know it was possible until that very moment.

My tongue felt like a piece of plastic in my mouth.

Jonathan’s voice was like a distant echo.

Suddenly someone slapped me a couple of times and I realised I had closed my eyes, the change of path made me feel terribly sick, before I even knew what happened I was vomiting viciously.

The tapping came back, a single pattern repeated over and over again.

I cleaned my mouth and moved away from the disgusting puddle as quickly as I could, I felt dizzy, disoriented, things weren’t looking up as nicely as they did moments ago. Rubbing my eyes didn’t help at all, I could hardly keep my sight focused.

You have overdosed, Sherlock, the signs are there, clear as day. Calm down, don’t freak out. Just...Let it be. Think about it for a second, think about your life, everything on it. Think about all the things you don’t want to leave behind, what you will miss, what makes you truly happy...

Exactly.

There’s nothing.

So rest, take a deep breath, and relax until everything goes away.

…

Of course I would do that if it weren’t for that terribly annoying beating.

What in the heavens was tha-...Oh.

No.

It couldn’t be....

Morse code.

“No...No, don’t. Liar. “He was grabbing me, Jonathan was grabbing me tightly, I fought him with all my might, but there was nothing I could do, my body was not responding as I wanted and he was stronger than me. “Leave me...Leave...He will never know. You lost me.” I prayed with hardly understandable words feeling a tight knot in my throat, no, this could not be happening. I had been so careful, I ran so far away, I’d much rather have it all end on my terms than live inside his cage again.

But it was too late.

He had been tapping some sort of communication device put inside his ear with a very clear morse code message, “Overdose”. And that could mean nothing but trouble.

About half a minute later I heard a massive rumble inside the room, dozens of feet stumbling around us. I couldn’t keep my eyes open, neither could I stand up, so I presume two of them must have picked me up from the floor and carried me outside the building. In less than a blink of an eye we were inside of a moving vehicle and about three pairs of hands were groping me, taking my pulse, injecting me some kind of liquid...Making sure I was alive.

And Jonathan was still beside me, with my head resting on his legs for comfort...I could feel it was him, everyone else smelt way too good to pass as a junkie.

“Rot in Hell.” I mumbled somehow managing not to choke with my own saliva with every bit of strength I could find inside of me. “I will.” He answered. That’s the last thing I heard before meeting blackness and silence.

___________________________

Light.

So much light.

I tried opening my eyes, useless effort, my eyelids wouldn’t stop trembling and it hurt, so I shut them again.

I managed to see white, clear blue, soft grey...As I expected.

“You’re finally awake.” He said with that dreadful condescending tone. Silence was the only answer.

“I hope you understand how necessary my actions were, Sherlock.” Being met again by nothing but his own echo, he sighed. “Answer me.” I grunted in response. “Stop behaving like a child.” His voice sounded tired, rough...And sarcastically enough, somehow concerned. “But that is what I am, right, Mycroft? A child.” I wasn’t surprised when my voice came out so terribly broken, I hadn’t used it in quite some time, and vomiting never helps. “You sure seem like one sometimes.”

I heard him shift positions, probably sit on the couch next to the bed. Seconds passed without any of us willing to break the silence. “This has to stop.” I finally said, what I didn’t expect was that high pitched chuckle from him. “Oh, I agree.” I had been giving him my back all this time, so I turned to face him. Oh he was tired, at least four days without sleep, and much more with poor sleeping habits. As immaculate as ever, but no billion bill suit or close shave could fool my eyes. “You have to stop controlling me.” Mycroft wasn’t looking at me, his gaze seemed lost in thought, headed towards the wall in front of the bed. “I will, as soon as I’m sure I won’t see your obituary notice on the Times by the end of the week.” We both moved uncomfortably on our seats. “That is none of your business.” He looked right at me, his lips were a thin line and premature wrinkles showed on his face due to tension and stress. “It is, wether you like it or not.”

We stared at each other for far more time than it was normal, words weren’t needed, both my hatred and his powerful presence were enough to understand what could have hurt too much to say. Seeing the one who had been your role model chain your life and throw away the key was difficult, really difficult.

“How was it again, Mycroft? Caring is not an advantage?” His mask broke for a fraction of a second, we both knew he lied for a living, and he was really good at it, but Mycroft Holmes was still human.

Visibly uncomfortable, he fixed his suit and straightened up with a tad of offense in his face, that question obviously upset him more than anything I could’ve said in our conversation, because as usual, he couldn’t answer, for his sake and for mine, because our sibling relationship would not understand it, because even us as individuals had trouble with the concept, we couldn’t risk it, we didn’t want to risk it, the Holmes brothers would never be caught giving the other nothing more than an annoyed glance, so fraternal love was out of the question.

“Do visit our parents sometime, Sherlock. They’re worried sick about you. “ He said while storming out of the room leaving the last fraction of the sentence unsaid, and I didn’t want to hear it anyway.

I made myself comfortable in bed covering myself with the blankets given to me, I hugged my legs and sighed, frowning, denying what he so obviously implied every single time, he was worried, oh but I knew he was, but it was no excuse, not with all the pain I’ve been through under his “wing”.

I didn’t want to know how much he cared.

I didn’t and I still don’t care.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you liked Jonathan, because If I keep up the research for a long fic I'm planning, he might come to stay. (His real name is not Jonathan as we all might expect after all)
> 
> Now, I'd like to point out, I do not hate Mycroft, in fact, he is my favourite character, I am not doing bashing on him, I sincerely believe this is Sherlock's opinion about his brother.
> 
> Also, I did quite some research about everything related to this drug but if I got anything wrong I'll be pleased to listen and change it.
> 
> Same goes with the fact that I know canon era Sherlock used cocaine, but it has been proven that modern Sherlock is more likely to have been (Or be) addicted to heroin, I'd be more than happy to discuss this if anyone wants clarification.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated <3 Have a lovely day.


End file.
